Sick
by Loving Your Smile
Summary: He wants her to be her old self again. He wants them to live 'til he's got a beard that nearly touches the floor and she knits sweaters for their great-grandchildren. But he doesn't say that. Instead, he says, "You look so beautiful today."


He doesn't want to admit it, but her room smells like sick people. He doesn't mind, though. The only thing is that he misses the smell of her perfume, and of the shampoo she used to use before she started taking potions that would react badly with it. The perfume smelled like sweet flowers and the shampoo was something fruity. Back when they first started dating, he would try to pinpoint exactly which fruit, but by now he's given up trying to.

Now her hair smells like hospital soap which smells like hospital gowns which smell like hospital food which smell like hospital rooms. Which, although he won't admit it, smell like sick people.

She isn't awake when he first sits down in the chair beside her bed. Her hand is lying beside her, and it's so delicate looking. So frail. She used to decorate her fingers with shiny rings, but now they're too loose to wear. He holds her hand gingerly in his, stroking her knuckles with his thumb and studying her face. She looks so serene, almost like she's smiling. The freckles are so bright in contrast to her white cheeks. Her hair is thinner, less shiny. But he doesn't really notice. She looks as beautiful as ever. So peaceful.

With a sudden intake of breath, her eyes flutter to their half-open state. Her smile blooms and even though he's seen it a million and one times, it makes his heart beat faster and he's grinning at her like always.

"Hi," she greets, her voice tight sounding, like every word is a strain. Maybe it is. The Healer said the disease had affected her throat, among other places.

"Hi," he echoes, and his eyes are drinking her in. He wants her to be her old self again. He wants to go dancing and go flying and fall asleep beside her again. He wants to bring her flowers on their tenth anniversary and have children with her. He wants them to live 'til he's got a beard that nearly touches the floor and she knits sweaters for their great-grandchildren.

But he doesn't say that.

Instead, he says, "You look so beautiful today."

Because she does, to him. Her relatives are worried because she's lost a lot of weight and her hair's thinner and her eyes are so sad. But to him, she looks the same as the day they got married. He pays no attention to the fact that she's lost that something in her eyes that used to make him dizzy. All he sees is that smile.

Her eyebrow raises. "Oh, shush. I'm nothing but bones." But she's smiling.

"Don't say that. You look beautiful."

Scorpius doesn't know why but he feels like he's going to cry.

"Scorpius, I'm so tired," she says after a moment.

He strokes her hair. "Then go to sleep, love."

She smiles again but it's smaller than before. "No, I mean tired of all this. Of being sick."

"Of course you are."

"Remember back when we used to argue all the time?"

He smiles. He remembers. Back in school, they'd call each other every name under the sun. And then when they started dating, they fought over ever little thing. And when he proposed, she launched into a thousand reasons she should say no, and then said yes. Of course he remembers.

"Yeah," he says and he nods.

"That was-"

She's interrupted by her own coughing.

"Oh, Rose. You're talking too much."

She gives a small nod and relaxes back into her pillow some more. "But keep talking to me, Scorpius."

"Yeah," he agrees. "Of course."

He talks about this morning at work, where his goofy coworker Smith nearly set his office on fire.

"Everyone got evacuated from our floor," he says, and she smiles a little brighter. He tells her all sorts of small details about the day, and at some point, her eyes close, but he keeps talking in case she's still awake.

"And there's a party at my aunt's house for her birthday today," he adds at the end.

Her eyes don't open, but she says, "You should go."

He sighs. "It's not that big of a deal. I mean, she has one every year, right?" he says as a joke, but his voice sounds so weary that she doesn't laugh.

She purses her lips. "I want you to."

"Please, Rose. Don't worry about it."

Her eyes open. "Scorpius?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to stay with me. I want you to have a life."

He bites his lip. "I do have a life. And you're the love of it. I don't want to go."

"You should. When was the last time you saw your family?" The way she's looking at him, you'd think he was the diseased one.

"Fine," he says. He stands up and sits back down immediate. "No. What if- what if-"

"What?"

"What if something bad happens?"

"We'll be okay. Don't worry."

He sits upright in his chair. "Are you sure about this?"

She gives another nod, and he bends his head over her. "I love you, Rose." He kisses her on the lips and she tastes like hospitals but it's okay. He doesn't mind much.

"I love you, too."

He grabs his coat off of the chair, kisses her on the forehead, and walks out of the small room. The fluorescent lights out in the hallway are brighter than the ones in her room and he squints his eyes for a moment. While he's still in the door way, he whispers, "Good night." In case she can hear him.

A Healer with a clipboard walks past him and then stops and turns around.

"Do you ever leave this place?" he says.

Scorpius shrugs. "I wish I never did."

"Never heard that before," the Healer says with a shake of his head. "You should go home and get some sleep. You need it. Otherwise you'll end up here." The Healer keeps walking.

"Wait!" Scorpius calls to him.

"What can I do for you?"

"Owl me if anything happens. Even if it seems like a really small thing. Please?"

"You got it."

Scorpius sighs in relief, slides his coat on and Disapparates.

"Scorpius!" his mother greets him. "How are you doing? How is she doing?"

"About the same," he says, about both of them. What's changed since the last time she asked?

They hug. "How have you and Dad been?"

"About the same," she says, and then she laughs. They catch up on small things- work, family, the basics. His father walks over and joins them, and they hug and talk and it feels good. Scorpius feels relaxed. Maybe Rose was right. It feels good to see his family. They intermingle with other various members of the Greengrass family and everyone is so happy to seem him. They all say he looks tired.

An oblivious one says, "That Weasley girl keepin' ya up at night?"

And he feels like he's going to cry again. The guy's wife scolds him on the arm and whispers things harshly in his ear, but Scorpius doesn't notice because he's sunk into the leather sofa of the living room. His mom joins him.

"Everything's going to be alright, darling," she coos, rubbing his back with her hand.

He nods. "Yes, you're right."

He joins the party. The windows have gone black by the time they hear an owl's beak tapping on a pane.

He swallows hard. Someone opens a window and the brown bird swoops in and drops a note on his lap. Scorpius can't move his fingers. His heart his hammering again but it doesn't feel good. He stares at the note.

"Do you mind?" his mother asks.

He manages to shake his head, and she tentatively opens it.

"'Dear Mister Malfoy,'" she whispers in his ear, but everyone can hear anyways because the room's gone silent. "'Please come to St. Mungo's immediately. Something's happend. L. P.' Oh, Scorpius, it's probably just-"

But he's already Disapparated.

Why did he have to leave? Why was he so stupid? He never should have left. He should have just stayed with her. He slams the door of her room open and find a group of Healers around her bed.

"Mr. Malfoy-" one of them says, but he already knows, he can feel it in his whole being.

"What happened to her?" he shouts. He's got to know for sure. He pushes through the Healers and sees her there, just laying.

"Mr. Malfoy, we're so sorry for your loss."

"Rose!" he cries, like he's trying to wake her. But it's no use. Her heart isn't beating. Her chest doesn't rise and fall. Her mouth doesn't twitch into an almost-smile. "Rose!" This time he grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her. The Healers try to hold his arms back and eventually he just lets them pull him away. Something inside of him feels twisted and crumpled. Like everything is sour and rough. His face overflows with tears.

"Rose," he whispers, because it's his prayer. It's the word he thinks of when he thinks of love. "Rose, Rose, Rose."

The Healers sit him down in the seat he's spent the night in for weeks now.

A couple minutes later, her parents and brother enter the room and he doesn't have to wonder if they feel as crumpled as he does. Mrs. Weasley holds his hand and silently balls. Mr. Weasley shouts things, shouts angry words, and then he cries, too, and he hugs his wife and son and son-in-law and Scorpius wonders what the point of living is if you're just going to die anyway.

But she loved him, didn't she? That made it worth it. And he still loves her, wherever she is now. And she taught him so much. She taught him things about the world, and life, and about himself. She taught him about love. She held him when he needed it, and she knew when he needed a laugh. She was so good for him. And while it makes him so sad, so _sad, _now that she's gone, he won't forget that she loved him. He is so thankful for having even been able to know her, and love her, and for her to love him back- he was so thankful.

So maybe now when he mourns, he will try to think of the parts of her that are still with him. She's still with him. His face breaks into a painful smile because he knows it's true. She's still with him.

He holds her hand, and kisses it.

When he tries hard enough, he can remember the smell of her perfume.

She's still with him.

**A/N Okay, I know, it's all kind of cliche. And I don't really know where it came from. Maybe it's because I'm home sick today? I don't know.**

**This just ruined my whole mood though.**

**Okay, anyway, please review! Yay!**

**Yay?**

**xx**

**Ali**


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